


hush

by leominoris



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bottom Lee Jeno, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, sexytimes but they're soft and sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leominoris/pseuds/leominoris
Summary: "Earth to Nana," Jeno whispers into his ear, brushes the strands of peach-pink out of Jaemin's face. The way he uses his nickname will never cease to amaze, warm and welcoming, a reaffirmation of the home he conquered for himself."Whatever worries you're holding onto, leave them at the door."
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 135





	hush

On stage, Jeno moves like a wolf. Jaemin remembers a time where his gestures were too much for his frame to keep up with; when the early stages of dance practices consisted of instructors telling him to slow down and focus on where one movement ended and the next begun.

 _Slow down, Jeno_ . _Pay attention to the counts, Jeno_ . _Angles, Jeno_.

Jaemin remembers watching him grow more frustrated by the hour, trying to unlearn what he had already half-committed to muscle memory.  
Jeno has always been patient with others but never all that much with himself.

It's different now, seven years of being reminded to slow down, contain his strength. The grace of a wolf on the prowl in his movement, all energy compressed into his body and ready to release is what makes him set the stage aflame.

By the time they fall into the sheets of the hotel bed, unfamiliarly smooth underneath Jaemin's fingertips, that fire is gone, making way for the puppy on its back begging for tummy scratches, eyes shaped into adoring little moon sickles.   
"You're taking too long," he whines and tugs at the hem of Jaemin's shirt, beckoning him closer.  
There's a latent sort of strength with which he holds himself now, a calculated choice, a reminder that he chooses to bare his neck, chooses to _trust_.

Jaemin admires his ability to drop the armour he dons for performances like flipping a switch.  
Neither he nor any of the others doubt that he could tear out their throats with a well-aimed bite should he want to but they also know he sees no need to.

Jaemin is a chameleon in front of a crowd, morphing along with its laughs.  
"You're a born entertainer," Hansol once told him (and his chest hurts with the longing to come back to the dorms to his awkward, shy reassurance one more time) in a time they'd both still been just learning how to grow into adulthood. "Even when you're not trying to, your first instinct is to entertain."  
At fourteen, Jaemin had chosen to take the praise by face value, turn it into a joke until the embarrassment had worn off.  
At the cusp of twenty, he feels like he understands a little better what Hansol meant.

"Earth to Nana," Jeno whispers into his ear, brushes the strands of peach-pink out of Jaemin's face. The way he uses his nickname will never cease to amaze, warm and welcoming, a reaffirmation of the home he conquered for himself. "Whatever worries you're holding onto, leave them at the door."  
His voice is thick and raspy with want and it wraps around Jaemin like a soft blanket, tethering him to the moment again.

Jaemin smiles, lets the other's fingers brush the sharpness of his shark teeth aside until he, bit by bit, feels himself melt into his arms.  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he murmurs and it's not quite a lie anymore. His thoughts turn fuzzy at the gentleness he's being treated with. If he brought anything left from the stage into their bed he no longer remembers.  
The thing is when you cycle through one caricature of yourself after the other you either start losing yourself or find the need to protect that sliver of undeniable, unerring truth with everything you have. In Jaemin's case, it's the latter, sharp teeth and shark skin and the ability to dismantle others with the kindest of words.  
There's no need for any of this after the proverbial curtain falls but the need to do so anyway lingers long after the adrenaline of their performance has worn off.

Jeno pries the last layers of shell away with the ease of practice, pressing at weak points and seams, patiently waiting until Jaemin dismantles himself, leaving behind the boy he learnt to fall in love with.  
"You were a million miles away," he protests, pouting. Jaemin laughs and leans in for a kiss made of loving teeth and a probing tongue, noting with satisfaction how Jeno is quick to comply and part his lips, leaving himself wide open for his breath to be stolen.  
They part unwillingly even though Jaemin's lungs start to burn with a scream for oxygen.

"That's right," Jeno gasps between hurried breaths. "Pay attention to me."  
His cheeks are beautifully flushed and Jaemin nips at one of them just for the sake of it. There's little left after the bitterness of the wipes they use to take off their stage make up.  
"I am, you big baby," he assures Jeno, fondness seeping into his chest, like warm, honeyed milk. "I'm always paying attention to you."  
He underlines his words with his hands sneaking beneath the hem of Jeno's muscle shirt, worn to softness in a way only loving something dearly can. His fingers dancing over the firm planes of Jeno's sides earn him a satisfied purr.  
"Even when I'm a million miles away, my heart's always with you," Jaemin promises, lining the pale column of his neck with small kisses (no bites, as much as he wishes he could, tomorrow hundreds of hungry eyes await them at the airport).

Jeno grimaces and pushes lightly against Jaemin's chest though his touch lacks any real strength.   
"Ew, you're so sappy!"  
"All part of my charm, wouldn't you say?"  
Jaemin gets no reply, at least not right away. Instead, Jeno whines, fingers knotted into Jaemin's hair to pull him down.  
"To think you're spewing stuff like that when you could be kissing me."  
He tsks before arching himself off the mattress just enough to slot their lips together.

Jaemin sinks into the kiss and lets it drown out the last of his on-stage pretences.

  
  


Jaemin has always been the more physical one out of the two of them, curious-fingered, affectionate, taking the world in through touch and movement first.   
That's what made Jeno shyly starting to ask the older members of the group about sex first surprising — or maybe it wasn't, considering how to this day, Jaemin perceives it as an extension of himself, something to explore, rather than have someone else tell him about it.  
They were an obvious choice for each other to begin to prod at the topic in a safe environment, too, at first stand-ins for imagined girls comprised of everything they had been taught to desire.

From there, it had evolved slowly. Back then Jaemin had been fresh out of treatment, still visiting physiotherapy every other week and Jeno had been hesitant to touch his back despite his friend's repeated reassurances. Maybe he had just reassurance to touch Jaemin, to begin with, and found an excuse in it.  
None of that was aided by them having to sneak behind everyone's backs, not only for fear of attracting consequences they wouldn't be willing to pay but also because when so much of their lives was already being shared with an audience their shaky fawn steps into the realm of physical intimacy didn't have to be added to the list.

Jaemin doesn't remember whose patience wore out first, neither does he really remember a date. It was too cold to linger anywhere other than beneath their covers for too long and clean-up, despite their best efforts (and collected bits of hyung wisdom squirrelled together), had been annoying and mortifying.  
Still, after that finding calm in each other's arms had become easier.

"Remember when you used to get too shy to look at me after kissing?" Jaemin brings up now, his broad grin housing a hint of its shark tooth sharpness he usually reserves for when they're around others. Jeno, who seemingly has been very content to lose himself in the feeling of the other's fingernails running down his abs makes an unhappy noise.  
"Why would you bring that up now?!"  
"None at all. I just think you're cute when you're flustered."

To underline his point Jaemin props himself up onto his elbows and takes in the cherry blush that extends past Jeno's chiselled jaw down to his neck. It suits him and slows Jaemin's ministrations for a moment.  
"Rude," Jeno groans and bucks his hips up. There are four layers separating their skin from each other but even only at half-mast, the pressure is enough to momentarily blur Jaemin's focus entirely.  
"Fuck, Jeno, don't just do that," he nags and twists one of the other's nipples between his thumb and index finger, drawing a throaty moan in reply. The kiss they share right after tastes of playful vengeance.

The one problem with them knowing each other's bodies like their own is that it makes their games of retribution impossible to win. A pinch turns into a bite turns into grinding against each other turns into fingers interlacing as their kisses grow sloppier, more desperate.  
"Off," Jeno commands breathlessly, pawing at the waistband of Jaemin's now-too-tight jeans. Two steps from falling apart by Jaemin's hands he looks positively debauched, lips bitten, pupils blown and cock straining against the fabric of his trousers.  
Jaemin can't find it in him to deny him that wish, not when he too longs to shed the layers between them.

"Bossy," he quips, cockiness glossing over how his fingers tremble with want and struggle to pry open the button of his jeans. Jeno gives no reply, focusing instead on undressing at what must be considered record speed.  
"And needy."  
"Wouldn't be if you weren't such a tease!"  
Jaemin laughs and dutifully lifts his arms for Jeno, now in his naked glory, to divest him of his shirt. The pink streaks down his stomach make Jaemin feel oddly satisfied knowing that it was his nails that marked Jeno. For right now, all they wish to give each other belongs to them, no ifs and buts.

"I'm sorry," Jaemin lies against Jeno's mouth, leaving a kiss for consolation before kicking his trousers off for good.  
"You're not," comes the reply, sandwiched between one breathless gasp and the next as they trade kisses.   
"Touché. I guess I'm not."  
Jeno makes a small, frustrated sound at the back of his throat and Jaemin wonders if it should really be sparking fondness in his chest the way it does.  
"Less talking, more kissing."  
"As my love commands."

Jeno goes still at that. He doesn't let go, his fingers remain at the base of his skull knotted into overbleached, dry hair. Paired with the silence in the room they suddenly feel a little heavy.  
"What is it?" Jaemin asks cautiously and licks his lips nervously.

"You've never called me that before."  
"My love?"  
A nod, then silence stretches out between them, again.  
"I like it," then comes the shyer, softer addition, just above a whisper. Jaemin blinks.  
"Oh. Alright."  
Jeno turns his head to the side and presses his face into the pillow as if that would conceal the sudden flash of cherry red across his cheeks. And ears. And neck. Jaemin coos and peppers the flushed skin with little, affectionate kisses.

"I'll say it more often, then."  
"Please do."

Jaemin has no idea whether it's actually appropriate for him to call Jeno anything like that. _Baby_ , _lover_ , _sweetheart_ . They're each other's best friends but past that labels never really have seemed to matter much.  
Maybe that makes all of it okay.  
Maybe ( _definitely_ ) they should talk about it.

But not tonight. Not when they're both still hard and Jaemin can still taste traces of Jeno's tongue against his and their clothes have already been flung off the bed.  
Reckless as it may be, neither one of them is made of stone and in that instant, more pressing matters call for their attention.

"Please also touch me already," Jeno adds, planting a kiss to Jaemin's temple.  
"I didn't get undressed for you to just call me pretty things."

And so Jaemin does. He's sure to leave marks along the insides of Jeno's thighs, just for the two of them (so little really is just theirs these days) before moving on to laving his cock in attention.  
He's not as skilled with his mouth as Jeno is but that hardly really matters when the fingers in his hair hang on like he's the only thing holding Jeno on earth.  
It's rewarding, motivating.

" _Nana_ ," he croaks reproachfully when Jaemin picks up his pace, tongue pressed against the underside of Jeno's cock. It gets him a tantalizing hum, the vibrations an almost devastating step up from the pleasure he's been receiving already. He bucks his hips up before he can realize and Jaemin is quick to pull off. His coughing is muffled by the palm of his hand, but it does little to conceal it from Jeno, who is quick to sit up and scoot towards the foot end of the bed so he can wrap his arms around the Jaemin's shoulders.

"Shit, Nana, I'm sorry," he whispers. His thumbs gently brush over Jaemin's cheeks.  
"'s okay," Jaemin waves it off coolly, though the uncomfortable tightness in his rough voice takes some of that nonchalance away again.  
Jeno shakes his head and tilts Jaemin's chin up so he can trail a line of kisses down the long column of Jaemin's neck, jaw to collarbone via adam's apple.  
"Did it hurt badly?"  
Jaemin doesn't respond right away, tilts his head back for better access instead.  
"No, it's okay," he replies absent-mindedly, already too caught up in the sensation of lips running up and down his throat. His voice is hoarse and Jeno grunts in a way that makes it sound like he's not quite convinced.  
"No more of that. I'm gonna prep and you're gonna watch," he decides instead, pushing back against Jaemin's whine that follows straight away with a kiss.

"Wanna spoil you though," the other protests, leaning into Jeno's arms. His doe eyes are almost black, now that Jeno's broad shoulders block most of the yellowish light the bedside lamp provides.

It's hard to tell someone like Jaemin no. Not when he's playing games and most definitely not when he isn't, baring his hunger and desire for Jeno to see.  
Hard, but not impossible.  
So to his dismay, Jaemin is banished to the foot of the bed under orders not to touch, neither Jeno nor himself, and left to watch him how he saunters over to his backpack to dig up lube and a condom (and Jaemin knows he takes his dear time with it, preening under the attention).

There's a particular kind of beauty to watching Jeno finger himself open. In part, and Jaemin won't deny it, it's the full picture, the breathy whimpers, the sheen of sweat covering his body, his cock twitching and leaving smears of precome on his abs.  
Jeno's expression is a mix of both bliss and a certain frustration at not progressing at a fast enough pace and Jaemin wishes he weren't stubborn enough to actually deny a helping hand.  
The other, maybe more meaningful side to it is knowing how scared he'd initially been of being on the receiving end to begin with, worried about what it would say about him as a person.

"It says _nothing_ about you, other than what you enjoy and what you don't," Jaemin had reminded him when they'd first discussed the topic, curled up on the couch waiting for the others to settle down for bed, voices hushed.  
Jeno had taken that with the strained smile of someone who appreciated a kind word but didn't believe it. Jaemin had let him have it, not minding either way. Being so expansive around others he appreciated the opportunity to be the one caged beneath Jeno's strong arms, to be pampered and spoiled in the way Jeno thought he was supposed to treat him in bed.  
They've both come a long way since then.

The downside to that is that now Jaemin is left to watch and can't participate and, goodness gracious, he's aching to at least be able to kiss Jeno, to be the one to draw these soft, vulnerable moans from him.   
Jeno tries to make it a game at first, trying to talk his way through it, _can't wait until you're in me, Jaemin_ " and " _want you to fill me up_ " and narrating how it feels to scissor himself open while having Jaemin watch. It's almost as endearing as it is hot, the fact that he's trying to make up for him not being allowed to touch Jeno, knowing that he's only being so stubborn out of fear of Jaemin getting hurt for real.

Still, once Jeno loses his patience Jaemin is all too happy to scramble forwards on his hands and knees, his lips seeking the other's out with a single-minded drive. Their bodies meld into each other effortlessly and in the heat of the moment it doesn't matter that Jeno's fingers are sticky with lube when they splay out over Jaemin's back, it doesn't matter his abdomen is sticky with sweat and precome. They'll have time to complain about it later.

All that matters now is that they get to bridge the gap between their bodies again.

Jaemin almost forgets about the condom, still in its package sitting on the sheets half-covered by the bottle of lube and Jeno looks almost affronted when he pulls away.

"Protection," Jaemin gasps, his pulse at a breakneck pace.  
"From what?!" Jeno whines. Jaemin pinches him, for good measure. It almost gets him an accidental kick to the knee.

"Nana!"

"Don't tell me fingering yourself made you forget what condoms are good for," Jaemin teases, though he hopes Jeno didn't notice how his breath hitched at the prospect of ditching it.  
He won't, not now, but the thought of it sends a pleasant shiver down his spine and makes his cock twitch in protest of his need to be responsible.

Jeno pouts but lets go of his hands.  
"Fine. But it's not like we really– uh–"  
"Fuck?"  
"Geez, be a bit cruder since you're at it!"

Jaemin laughs and tears the wrapper open.  
"You can call it by its name, you know? Nothing bad will happen. Maybe I _want_ to hear you say 'fuck', have you ever considered that? Honestly, it'd be pretty hot–"  
This time, it's Jaemin who gets pinched and wails in protest.

"I only ever sleep with you," Jeno continues, trying to seem undeterred. It doesn't quite work when the blush on his cheeks tells another story.  
"Unless you're lugging around an STD…"

Jaemin dutifully checks if the condom sits right before he wipes his hands on the sheets (it's okay, they can sleep in the other bed afterwards, right?) and leans in to litter Jeno's face with fond, tiny kisses.  
"Another time, yeah? Clean-up's gonna be a bitch otherwise and you–"  
He smacks his lips against Jeno's.  
"Already look fucked-out. I'm not gonna have you doze off in the shower."

Jeno waves him off with an impatient noise before wrapping his legs around Jaemin's waist, grinding up against him.  
"Less talking, more fucking," he grumbles and Jaemin coos despite the spike of arousal. His cock twitches in interest.  
"On it, my love."

They've done slow and careful, the kind of sex that is savoured and entails plenty of discovering the other's body and its intricacies and they've also done hurried and near-animalistic, worrying about running out of time.  
This time, it's an in-between, a little rushed because they're both worked up as is, short on patience, rather than the luxury to feel the other up for a good tease or a refresher on what exactly draws the loudest moan or the tightest clench of Jeno's warmth around Jaemin.

They fall into a rhythm that is easy and comfortable and maybe Jeno is relishing in allowing himself to be a little pampered. If he is Jaemin doesn't mind.  
"Wish we could do this more often," Jeno whispers hoarsely between one moan and the next and Jaemin feels his heart in his chest expand.  
"Aw, my big baby," he breathes and pushes his nose into Jeno's neck so he won't see his expression.  
"No, really. Just–" A well-placed thrust shuts them up for a moment, both men lost in a flash of want for a heartbeat.  
"'ts nice to be close like this," Jeno concludes with difficulty. His eyes are moons clouded over when Jaemin looks up, unfocused in his haze of lust and impossibly fond.

"If things were different, though, we wouldn't get to travel the world and stand on stage together," he replies and hikes Jeno's legs further up his thighs.  
It seems to do the trick in making him boneless with pleasure.  
"And I'd never want to give that up. Not for all of the great sex in the world."  
Jeno wheezes softly, the closest he'll get to a laugh at this stage and tangles his fingers in Jaemin's hair. What might've once supposed to become a kiss fizzles out into them sharing a delicate, loving glance in its place.  
"Aren't I supposed to be the responsible one?"  
"You are. Except for when you're my pliant, cute baby, looking to die for on my cock–"

Jeno pushes Jaemin's face away with a huff.  
"Nevermind, soft hours over, I wanna come."  
Jaemin whines out of principle but dutifully speeds up his thrusts. Somewhere along the way talking becomes a waste of air and then Jeno is convulsing around him, triggering his own high and they crash into each other, tired and pliant and satisfied.

Jaemin almost has to manhandle Jeno into cleaning up ("we're gross and covered in sweat and jizz, I'm _not_ going to bed like this, you big oaf!") but as they sit on the tiled floor of the shower, carefully shampooing each other's hair it feels worth the struggle after all.

"Jeno?"  
The reply comes in a hum, which is good enough.  
"I meant what I said, yeah? I'd never trade anything for getting to live this life with you, side by side. Even if it means almost emotionally scarring Renjun that time he almost walked in on us jacking each other off–"  
Jeno snorts and tugs at Jaemin's ear.  
"I know, you big doofus. Hurry up, I'm tired."

Jaemin sighs dramatically and leans over to peck him on the nose.  
"Alright, big baby. Let's get this over with."

"Jaemin?"  
"Hm?"  
"As long as I'm your baby that's all that really matters, right?"

Jaemin laughs and pulls Jeno up, basking in the warmth of his arms as he snakes them around Jaemin's waist.

"Damn right it is."

**Author's Note:**

> alright. so. i feel like i should explain myself:  
> talking to c., my friend who was pretty much the driving force behind me actually writing [liminal space](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845657), i had mentioned being a little reluctant about writing out the sex scene in that fic. i wound up not doing it but also got miffed because it felt a bit like ducking out of a challenge so _hush_ was meant to be that deleted scene in between.
> 
> it ended up developing a life of its own and turning into something completely different but that's okay… i think…  
> i've never actually published a fic like this (and i'd like to apologize for any inaccuracies as far as the logistics of it all go) but you gotta start somewhere, right?  
> also i really need to get into the habit of finding myself a beta reader.
> 
> find me on [twt](http://twitter.com/lovecherriemoji) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/lovecherriemotion) and let's support reload! ✨


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